Every Servant represented an era.
Every Servant embodied an ideal.
For a moment, the atmosphere around the "drinking table" turned taut with hostility.
But—
There was no way they would fight tonight.
"This little gathering may well be the last peaceful moment of this Holy Grail War."
Alexander held his wine cup, a meaningful smile on his face.
The essence of this banquet was a "Holy Grail War."
They each put forth their own ideals, seeking to conquer one another with words and determine victory or defeat.
Naturally, the final result was a deadlock. None of them could persuade the others.
After all, anyone who did not desire the Holy Grail would never be summoned as a Servant.
"Whatever. Every last one of you is a worthless mongrel in the river of time, but perhaps that is precisely why I acknowledge you."
"You possess the worth of being slain by my own hand."
Waver Velvet's face instantly turned pale with fright, while Matou Kariya furrowed his brow.
That was practically a declaration of war.
"Sorry, but I have no intention of dying by your hand. I've never minded killing a few more kings."
Though the opponent Sakumura had imagined was Anno, Gilgamesh's arrogant expression still made him say those words.
"Hahaha—before you manage to kill me, be careful that I don't plunder your treasury first!"
Alexander was likewise utterly unconcerned by Gilgamesh's provocation, instead bursting into laughter.
"My church could use some decorations. Personally, I do not care for gold, but if their origins are grand enough, they may add a touch of charm to the church."
The childish innocence had vanished from Manlio's face, replaced by the decisiveness and killing intent of an adult—of a Servant fighting in the Holy Grail War.
Of the four groups, everyone except Gilgamesh